Spells and Words
by Flek Siner
Summary: A writing exericise I made up. Pick a card at random and write a little story about it.
1. Crystallization

This is a little idea I came up with for a writing exercise. I like Magic the Gathering Lore, and I think several of the cards can be turned into little stories. So I went onto Wizard's of the Coast's Gatherer website and clicked on the random card buttom until inspiration struck. I figure this will help me write on different things and situations. Granted, they're all going to be related to Magic and fantasy stuff, but I think it'll still help non the less.

This first still story is about the card Crystallization from the Alara Block. It costs one Green or Blue Mana and one White Mana. It's a creature enchantment that makes it so a creature can't attack or block. Also whenever the enchanted creature is targeted by another spell or abiliy it's exiled.

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Corpse #8909 lurched across the battlefield. It wielded a large chunk of sharpened metal that it had pulled out from its stomach upon its rebirth. It had no mind or soul of its own. It was brought back to the world by a young necromancer looking for a way to strike back at his former magic teacher. He used the dark magic that had been forbidden to him to raise an army of the fallen.

The dead that he controlled were once warriors and death dealers. Struck down by another army also long dead. The necromancer did not care for the creatures her rose up, they were only a means to an end to him. They would clear a path to his former master so he could show him how much more powerful he had begun.

Corpse #8909 was breaking ahead of the rest of his fellow zombies, moving as quickly as his decomposing legs would allow. When it was given new, unholy life Corpse #8909 was given the directive "Kill all that oppose me" and sent on its way. The undead felt one of its eyeballs being pierced by a barbed arrow; this was ignored on account of the zombie not even knowing what pain was.

Another weapon buried itself into the necrotized flesh of the creature only seconds after it had been pierced by the arrow. It was the sword of a human warrior. He was young and full of anger and spite towards the necromancer and all of his creations. The warrior would do whatever it took to bring the demented magic user to justice, while smiting any and all of his unholy creations.

Well he would have if Corpse #8909 drove itself deeper into the sword being held by the stalwart youth. The young warrior's eyes filled with fear as the zombie rose its mangled arm holding its rusty weapon. A scream died on his lips as the undead soldier hacked deeply into the young man's head. The fiery light in the warriors eyes died out as the dead man swung again at his head.

The undead creature moved over the now dead warrior and continued to lurch toward the now visible tower in front of it. It was an old brick building surrounded by thirty more human soldiers just as ready to smite whatever monster that crossed their paths. Some readied swords and shields while others, on the tower, notched arrows and prepared to fire again on the encroaching horde.

The undead besieged the small force blocking their path with the ferocity that their master instilled in them at their creation. Several of the creatures were put back to rest by the brave warriors, but the undead quickly overran them with their greater numbers.

Only a small group of the human men were left after only a few minutes of combat. They were back to back, each of them waving their weapons in front of them in a vain attempt at defense.

A lone undead broke from the ranks and started to advance quicker than its brethren. Corpse #8909, again, rose its rusted armament and began to swing on the terrified men in front of it. It did not care for their lives, or their families. It could only move forward and kill. Just as fresh blood was about to be shed a bright blue streak of light drove itself into the arm of Corpse #8909. It could not move its risen arm, nor drop its weapon. The only thing it could do was look at the now smiling faces of the men in front of it.

A tall, older man had appeared from the top of the tower. He was dressed in blue and green robes with several runes and other magical symbols woven into the fabric. His face was completely serene, the undead army that had appeared did not seem to bother him. His long wrinkled finger was pointing at Corpse #8909.

The man turned his attention to another of the zombies and another bright light erupted from his finger tip. The light stabbed into one of the other countless ghouls and began to work its effects. A blue crystalline substance was taking over the creature's body. It slow movements went still as the final part of its body was replaced by crystal.

Soon even more magical bolts sprang from the old man and transformed the undead marauders into glass-like figures. The unaffected zombies were not fazed by the transmogrification of the other undead, but they were having trouble moving through the translucent bodies the other zombies had become.

The old magician yelled out to the group bellow, "Now you fools! Strike now!" The warriors didn't need another reminder, and attacked the corpses with reinvigorated ferocity. The crystalized bodies that were struck by the warrior's blades shattered almost instantly into chunks of glass-like crystal. The men made quick work of the rest of the undead with the help of the occasional volley of magic spells from the mage above them.

After an exhausting fight, all of the dead were put back to rest. The remaining soldiers dropped on the ground, their bodies spent from the battle that had just commenced. The old man in the tower smiled to himself after seeing that all of the undead had been slain.

He knew that his former student had been responsible for this attack. He had told the boy that if you wanted real power you would have to work for it. You couldn't just cheat your way through years of experience.

The old man pondered about the remaining crystal on the battlefield below. He wondered if he could repurpose the shattered creatures as paper weights, or maybe a chandelier.


	2. Form of the Dragon

This was hard to right. I rewrote this thing so many times it's not even funny. This chapter is about the card Form of the Dragon. I thought it was pretty cool looking, so I decided to writed about it. It's an enchantment that does the following: At the begining of your upkeep Form of the Dragon deals 5 damage to target creature or player; At the end of each turn your life total becomes 5; Creatures without flying cannot attack you. Yeah this card turns you into a fire breathing, spell casting dragon. Pretty awesome if you ask me.

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The duel had been going for hours. The two of them had been slinging bolts of energy and summoning minions faster than most would feel possible. The area around them had become a used landscape. The mountains they stood on were crumbling beneath them from the strain their magic was putting on them.

They were similar spell casters. Fast and filled with rage; this was a similarity between their spell types and personalities. Both were traveling spell shapers, eager to show their strength to any one that opposed them. Or talked to them. Or walked by them….. Or breathed in the same general vicinity as them.

The only difference they had was in appearance. One was a woman covered in scars and battle regalia. She was a former battle shaman to a tribe from the northern mountains. The amount of enemies she'd incinerated was astonishing. People from her land called her Ash Caller on account of her spells to reanimate her fallen foes ashes as servants to fight by her side. These spells used a darker kind of magic than her tribesmen were used to. They thought she had lain with foul devils and abominations to have gained such dark power. These suspicions eventually led to her being persecuted within her tribe. Her tribesmen tried to burn her body in a holy fire to cleanse her spirit. They failed, as they forgot that she had long been immune to the flames they used for their rituals. After all, she was the one who taught them about those flames in the first place.

The other was a young man wearing regal reds and purples. He was a noble prince from one of the few civilized kingdoms below the peaks he now stood on. He showed a talent for magic in his childhood. Unfortunately for those near him, it was a destructive kind of magic. He was lucky he was a noble for all of the houses he'd burned down. Eventually his talent and pride turned into an ugly arrogance. He called him the Drake of the Red Empire, comparing himself to the mighty reptiles in the mountains. He left his city to search for even more power in the wild tribes in the north. His family and fellow city folk sighed in relief the day he left.

They had met on the mountain path. Both searching for something the other had. Power, as of then, unseen to them. The fight broke out quickly. Neither of them were particularly good at talking, or even being around, other people, so their battle seemed almost inevitable.

The shaman shot first with a quick sphere of fire to the boy's unblemished face. The boy called up a minor elemental he had long ago subjugated to defend him. The elemental fell just as quickly as it was summoned when the fire enveloped its spiritual body. The shaman continued to throw spell after spell to the young noble several feet away from her.

The young man smiled with glee at a worthy opponent for him. None of the townsfolk back at home were never this eager to get burned to death. He summoned two of a lesser race in the land. Green, leathery skinned goblins. Both of them wielding flaming whips. The noble kept the goblins in front of him and had them lash burning embers toward the scared woman.

The Ash Caller laughed at the pathetic attempt at brute force she was being shown. She summoned a favorite of hers. The former chieftain of her tribe. Well his ashes. She had kept all of their ashes, just because they had betrayed her doesn't mean they can't be useful to her after death. The form she created for the ashen undead was nightmare inducing, with mismatched arms and legs, no eyes, and a stream of embers flowing from its mouth.

The Drake took a few steps back at the sight of this new nightmare in front of him. He didn't let it affect him though. He tried to think like the goblins he'd summoned. And by that he meant not think much at all. He took a glance at the two creatures beside him and saw they weren't very affected by the ash beast that had just been called from the ether. Just another thing to burn.

He furrowed his brow and yelled out to the goblins to block the now charging aberration running at him. They jumped forward and grabbed onto the oblong shape of the ash chieftain. They wrapped their flaming whips around its fat neck and stumpy legs to hopefully slow its movement. Despite their furious attack it did not stop the undead from moving forward. One of its legs had been sliced off by the fiery whip of one of the goblins and it was still limping toward him.

The young man looked at the shaman and saw that she was summoning another ashen monstrosity to devour him. He drew up some of the power from the mountains beneath him and called several streaking lightning bolts from the cloudless sky. The white hot energy went into the reanimated body and turned into inert, electrified mush. But as the energy died out in the melted form of the zombie it shot out again with just as much power from before, and shot into the newly created monster the shaman had just created.

The woman was blown back by the lightning strike into a jagged rock face. She propped herself up onto a pile of rubble, summoned a rock-like lizard from the ether in a short breathe, and released her darkest spell. They said she had lain with demons to gain her dark magic. She had not been intimate with them; she had torn them limb from limb to see what gave them their strength. And when they tried to put themselves back together she shackled them to her spirit as familiars. As undying, immortal slaves to her every whim.

She grabbed the rocky lizard and through it into the center of the battle field, and started to chant in a tongue that was harsh on the ears and made the brain ache like someone was drilling into the skull. The lizard went still for a moment, before starting to swell like a balloon. It grew until it was the size of a small boulder and then tore itself apart with an earth shaking explosion. In the place of the detonation was a horrible figure. It had a humanoid form with darkened skin and leathery, membranous wings sprouting from its spine. Its head was similar to that of a cow skull, and long stringy hair cascaded down its heavily muscled back. It held a massive axe in its clawed hands.

The terror that had shaken the young noble before from the ashen undead was nothing compare to what he felt now. It was like all of his worst fears coming alive in one being. He didn't care about winning the duel now. He just wanted to get out of this fight with his life- no his soul intact.

The noble summoned a few more goblins and sent them to fight the axe wielding demon. The goblins, once again, gladly through away their lives by battling another insurmountable monster. The three goblins jumped up and around the demon while swinging their rusty swords and hammers at it. Their strikes cut into the demon's flesh, but did not fell it. The skull headed demon gave a powerful horizontal swing with its mighty axe and bifurcated the pesky goblins attacking it.

The noble used the small amount of time the goblins gave him to summon a ringer for himself. Pulling all of the mana he could out of the tall mountains around him and called forth one of the mightiest of beasts. Red streams of energy erupted from the ground and swirled into the sky. They wrapped and entwined themselves and shaped themselves into the king of the mountains. A the energy started to form ivory white bone, and then rippling muscles over that, and then completely covering the form in green indestructible scales. A mighty roar rang throughout the sky.

The Shivin Dragon was feared across many planes. Being brought their by uncaring Planeswalkers to fight the inhabitants and creatures they came across. This plane had also been plagued by Shivan Dragons as well.

The Shivan dragon looked around quizzically for moment before narrowing its eyes on its summoner. The look it gave the noble was one of a caged beast. One that said, "If you didn't control my actions I would incinerate you." The noble was not scared of the flying creature he had brought to the battle. He dealt with dragons on a regular basis and knew how to work with them. Give them praise and adulation and they're like putty in your hands.

He decided to skip his usual speech when he summoning the mighty dragon on account of the soul eating beast that was going to kill him. He pointed at the demon and roared a command at the dragon to kill the demon. The dragon almost seemed taken aback by the brazen command, but the magic controlling it pushed its contempt for its summoner deep into its brain.

The dragon rose up and flew at the demon with a primal roar. The demon, in turn, spread its bat like wings and took to the sky. The demon swung its axe at the dragons head with wordless rage. Just as the axe was about to hit the dragon's throat a gout of flame hit it in its face. The noble had pushed more magic into the dragon to make it unleash its fiery breath. The demon's skin sizzled and boiled from the intense heat of the flames. The noble smiled with glee.

The axe of the demon was not stopped by the dragon's flame breath, however, and its axe struck through into the dragon's neck. The dark magic that fueled the demon's strength and gave the axe its form easily cut through the dragon's emerald scales. The Shivan lord fell to the ground on top of the flaming corpse of the demon. A loud crash sounded as they simultaneously hit the ground.

The noble men smiled again. Sure one of his most powerful summons had just been slaughtered, but now he could finish off this barbarian with a few more lightning strikes. He had this. A loud speech about how he was from a better crop of people died in his throat when he heard the shaman laughing.

The raspy laugh of the woman, who had picked herself up from the rocks, was chilling. Her demonic familiar had just been destroyed. She had no more of her ashen undead, and yet she was laughing like a mad man.

She pointed a bloody finger at the ground and with a small stream of energy, she summoned another tiny lizard. The young man was floored by the demented behavior he was seeing. His eyes watched her pick up the lizard, like before, and throw it onto the burning heap that had been their champions. The noble started to sweat. He didn't like what was happening.

The shaman called out to the noble as a similar rumbling started, "Don't you know?" The corpse of the dragon started to glow with sickly green energy, and the lizard once again swelled to bursting, "Demon's never die!"

The clawed hand of the thought dead demon sprang from the body of the dragon. The demon then cut his way through the rest of the dragons flesh and showed itself to the noble. The demon looked different. It was surrounded by a black cloud and its eyes were glowing blood red. It was stronger. He had killed the demon with one of the most powerful creatures in the land and crushed its body, but it was still alive!

The demon started towards the noble again; the laughs of the shaman were getting louder. The noble ran. He ran down the mountain for a full minute before stopping behind a large rock grouping. He was breathing as hard as his lungs would allow. He was going to die. He was going to die at the hands of an unholy abomination controlled by a crazed outlander.

He heard the flapping of wings. The demon was closing in. The noble dropped to the ground. His eyes were blank. He was going to die…. A thought came to his mind.

When he had learned how to summon dragons he learned of another way to use their strength. There were several spells that imitated a dragon's flight or flaming breath, but there was one that could copy the entirety of the beast. He had never thought of casting the spell before; mainly because of the amount of power needed and the cost. His life span would be shortened by years, and his body would be forever scared by the transformation. He thought on the situation of a moment, and decided that being crippled and deformed was better than death.

He drew up every last ounce of mana he had, and even more from the plane itself. Red crackling energy enveloped his body and flung him into the air. His body stretched and twisted into a more reptilian shape. Scales ripped through his skin and covered his newly created muscles. Large wings stretched to each end of the horizon and began to rhythmically flap. The noble's eyes straightened out and became bestial. Another ear splitting roar came from the mountains.

The now draconic noble shot himself toward the undying demon. His fear was gone. The thoughts of death had left and been replaced by ones of triumph. A stream of liquid fire shot at the demon and ripped through its membranous wings. The dragon noble quickly flew towards the now silent shaman. Although his body was that of a beast, his mind was still that of a mage. The dragon summoned a slew of goblins and had them tear the grounded demon asunder.

Their roles had been reversed. Now she was the one filled with fear and thoughts of the beyond. And the teary eyed noble that, only minutes ago had been running scared, was now one of the most powerful beings to ever be given life.

The dragon looked at the scared woman below him. His eyes narrowed even more, and a scaly smirk stretched across his lips. The dragon could see the begging was about to start. The crying and blubbering for him to spare the woman's life. He didn't want to listen to that. He didn't have to. He was a dragon.

The fire that hit the shaman was not one she was used to. It was not the flames that cleansed souls or burned tribesmen. They were ones that melted flesh and brought screams of agony to her lips. Her death was slow. While the flames could kill her, she was still fairly resistant to the flames. She screamed and writhed for several minutes before finally going still.

Black smoke came from the charred remains below the dragon noble. The noble thought to himself as he watched the corpse smolder. The spell wasn't going to last much longer. And he wasn't very far away from his home town. Maybe he'd pay them a visit.


	3. Thought Gorger

Okay so it took me a long time for me to pick another one to do, but I think I found a good one. This little story is about the card Thought Gorger from the set Rise of Eldrazi. It's a 2/2 black creature that costs two black and two colorless with trample. And when it enters the battlefield you can discard your entire hand to add as many +1/+1 counters on it for as many cards you discarded. When it dies you draw a card for as many +1/+1 on it. Also I used the card Kabira Vindicator for inspiration for another character in the story. It's also from Rise of Eldrazi if you care,

"I've got another one for you sir," the young soldier said to his commanding officer.

The grizzled knight looked at the form on the ground. It was one of his. A young man, drafted to help fight against the encroaching spawn. His skin was pale and sallow. His blue eyes had become sunken and lifeless. Every few seconds his gaze would shift and a muted gibbering would leak out of his chapped lips.

"How many does that make?" the knight asked.

The soldier sighed and responded with, "This makes fifteen sir."

The knight shook his head, "Put him with the rest."

The knight moved from the solider and began walking through the rest of the camp. The rest of his men were starting look haggard. The scuttling monsters they'd been fighting were taking a toll on them. These Eldrazi, that's what the shaman were calling them, weren't like anything they'd fought before.

The knight and his men were used to the monsters of their plane. The marauding blood drinkers would raid a village every now and again, or the occasional group of goblins would try to burn down a field of crops. The soldiers knew how these beasts worked. What their tactics were; even how they thought.

The Eldrazi were different though. Their actions didn't make any sense to the men. They would attack anything that got in their way. Eating every piece of meat and bone they could fit into their leaking maws, and spawning even more of themselves to put into the fray.

As the knight thought he had moved his way towards the makeshift stable his men had constructed. Looking inside, the knight saw his felidar mount sitting contently next to the soldier's smaller, by comparison, stallions.

"How are you, friend?" the knight asked the horned cat.

The large beast shifted slightly at the voice of his rider. It moved its large head toward the knight and made a deep mewling noise.

The knight rubbed his gloved hand on the snout of the cat and sighed. Recently the felidar had been the knight's only companion for the battles against the mindless creatures. He had his fellow soldiers, but with the constant drafting replacing the fallen warriors he hadn't been able connect with any of them.

"Come on friend," the knight said softly, "Let's move out."

The knight saddled the felidar and secured himself atop its muscled back. He moved the cat out of the stable and walked it toward the center of the encampment. Several soldiers followed the knight as he moved through the camp. They straightened their gear and weaponry to their bodies. The sight of their commanding officer on his mount told them something was about to happen.

The knight stopped the movement of the felidar and called out to his soldiers.

"Listen men! We are being taken down by a plague. These monsters have destroyed our villages and eaten our families! Now they've taken our comrades very soul! Right from their still living bodies!" The fire in the soldiers' souls were stoked by the knight's words. The will of the man in front of them was more empowering than any aura that the shamans could conjure.

"We will not let our fellow warriors be forced to live out their days as hollow shells. We will find this beast! And send it back to whatever pit it crawled out of!"

An echoing cry came from the crowd of men around of them. The knight pulled out his blade and directed it toward the cliffs outside of the camp.

"We know where the beast is. We will fight this monster off just like we did to the rest of its kin! Gather your gear men, and move out!"

In an instant the battalion was fully armored and atop their steeds ready to move out. It had been days since they'd been this full of energy for a battle. It was like the words of the commander had filled them with the strength of new men.

The small army moved into the rocky openings of the cliffs outside of the camp. The lifeless soldiers had been found near the cliff. Scouts from the encampment had heard from the fleeing locals about a monster that "ate thought" living in the cave.

The knight was in front of the mass of troops holding his sword at the felidar's side. He had seen a variety of the Eldrazi spawn. Always alien and misshapen. A collection of sharp angled limbs hanging off of lumpy forms. Sometimes they floated off of the ground, sometimes they scuttled over the earth. Every time terrifying.

The knight had not, however, heard of one of these spawn that could "eat thought". He assumed that was just some colloquialism for soul eating, since he wasn't sure how one could even do that. Although, the Eldrazi were the most alien thing he had ever faced, so he guessed anything could be possible.

The troop moved deeper into the canopy of cliffs and saw an assortment of bones thrown around the ground. They all guessed the beast must eat more than thought. The sunlight was peeking through the jagged rocks of the mountain, draping everything in a thick shadow. Sounds of falling rocks could be heard in the distance.

The almost palpable fervor the army had mustered before began to die out as they trekked around the rocks. Tension replaced the fighting spirit in their hearts.

A voice rang out from the back of the group, "Sir! I saw something! It just moved around a ro- AGHGH!" His words sharply turned into agonized screams, and were then swiftly silenced.

The captain quickly moved around toward the voice.

"What was that!? Everyone form up and get ready! The things found us!"

The soldiers were almost tripping over themselves trying to get into formation. As they pulled out their swords and spears another scream came from the edge of the crowd of soldiers.

"Move forward soldiers! We're going to push this thing out of these cliffs!" the knight was determined to kill this monster before anyone else fell to it.

The small army moved forward and around the corner of the mountain. They passed two of their fellow soldiers, completely lifeless, laying against the rocks. The knight shook his head at the sight.

They passed another corner when they saw the beast. It was a huge thing; completely black with oozing skin. It had a gaping, blue mouth that shined with an eldritch light. Several misshapen limbs were sticking out of its long body. It looked at the mass of soldiers for a moment before suddenly shooting forward, like a colossal insect.

The knight and the soldiers quickly moved into a defensive formation. The horror crushed several of the soldiers underfoot, trying to move through the mass. Screams of agony and terror cried out as the creature tore through them. Any soldier that tried to swing their blades into its slimy body soon found that they had a hard time removing their weapons from its tar like hide.

An awful screech came from the things glowing mouth as it grabbed a soldier and rose his head towards the mouth. The shining blue light changed shades rapidly as a wispy energy came from the soldiers head. After a moment the creature dropped the warrior on the ground, lifeless and without energy.

The monster quickly moved to grab another as the battle continued. The knight watched in abject terror as his men were slaughtered and defiled by the beast in front of him. Even his mighty steed was fidgeting to flee like a wild animal.

The knight gripped his sword tight and jumped into the bloodshed. He swung his sword at the beast's spindly limbs and quickly chopped through the slime. The knight's swings were more forceful than the rest. The knight had more kills under his belt than the rest of his men, and he knew how to kill a beast built to withstand a sword. You had to cut at the thin points and then stab at its heart.

The gorging monstrosity turned its attention to the knight that had just severed several of its legs. Four more of the clawed legs shot out from its torso as it dropped another soldier to the ground. The horror grabbed at the knight and wildly attacked with all of its distorted limbs.

The knight pivoted his body to the left and dodged the onslaught directed towards him. He clambered onto the side of the monster and stabbed deeply into the creature's body. It screamed with an unholy fury and twisted its body around. Two of its arms grabbed the knight and crashed him into the wall of the cliff.

It pulled the knight's head toward it mouth, and the glow of it quickly shifted as it began to eat. The knight could feel it pulling at his mind. His memories of home and his family. All of his old friends, being forgotten in an instant. Then his personality went. He couldn't remember who he was or why he was angry at this monster holding him.

A loud roar swept through the battlefield and interrupted the horror's meal. The huge felidar collided into the monster just as the knight was losing his last thoughts. The claws of the cat raked through the ugly flesh and tore into monster attacking its master.

The creature tried to fight against the felidar, but it couldn't stand against the cat's sudden attack and the army's onslaught. The cat and soldiers cut at the horror into shreds until it was nothing more than a pile of black ichor that quickly dissipated into the air.

The felidar moved away from the decimated horror and walked toward its rider. The knight was crumpled on a section of rocks. He wasn't moving. The felidar pawed at the knight softly. The knight's body shifted up from the rocks.

His bald head looked at his mount, blood stained on his face.

"Friend," the knight murmured.

The felidar perked up at his voice. It, again, pawed at the knight. The knight, slowly, got up from the rocks and got into a sitting position. He patted the cat on its nose, affectionately.

"Did we win?" the knight asked. The felidar moved away slightly to show the melted body of the monster. The knight gave breathed out a long sigh.

"That's good. One down," he said turning his head around toward the opening of the cliffs at the fields. He saw a cloud of hedrons floating around his encampment.

"A million to go."


End file.
